


Arte Perire Sua

by avidivide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Horcruxes, I'm trying, It just happened, M/M, Multi, Not sure where I'm going with this, Time Travel, Time Turner, creepy fuck, hermione is the best as usual, i don't understand time, or the physics of time, tom's way too perceptive, weird mind games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:52:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12106134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidivide/pseuds/avidivide
Summary: The greatest moment of Tom Riddle's life so far is interrupted by a sniffle.





	1. Radix Malorum Est Cupiditas

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I started this and then the next thing I knew I had a whole chapter and then two and now I can't be stopped. Tom and Harry are just so fun to write!
> 
> A few disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter. All credit to the illustrious JK Rowling.
> 
> I don't claim to know anything about timelines or time travel or any of it I'm pulling this righhhhht outta my ass. Please keep that in mind. (Although I think I picked some things up from Star Trek possibly maybe)
> 
> As much as I would love one I don't have a beta so please feel free to correct any mistakes.

_This is it._

Now that the moment was here Tom could hardly believe he had made it so far. Standing in front of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets he took a moment to let his eyes fall shut and inhaled slowly, relishing in the elation of the victory he had earned. The work it had taken to get here was so very worthwhile.

_Curling up in a ball on the hard cement of the underground as the whistling and crash of the bombs overhead shook dirt from the walls and rattled his teeth. Fear choking him, not even being able to cry through all of the anger at his own weakness. He was not able to protect himself even if he wanted to, he didn't want his wand snapped and he wasn't sure a shield charm could stop a 250kg incendiary bomb cascading from the sky. Clenching his eyes shut against the thunder of the anti-aircraft guns and letting his hatred of the monsters around him be his only comfort._

_Pouring over tome after tome in the dusty Hogwarts library, looking for anything that might give a hint as to where he might find a solution. Anything to protect him from dying at the hands of  those filthy Muggle war machines. He had too much to accomplish, too much he needed to do for the Magical World. It felt like grasping at straws, threads of information tying loosely together. Checking out one book at a time from the Restricted Section before finally coming across it, Secrets of the Darkest Art._

_A Horcrux. The answer to the search of immortality that so many had searched for was sitting in the Hogwarts library. This was his destiny, the reason his ambition seemed to have no end was because it wouldn't need an end. He wouldn't ever have to worry about dying again and all it took was the end of a life, a significant death. Laughing in the safety of his bed curtains, he had found it at last._

_Plastering a dashing smile on his face and laughing at the horrible jokes the repulsive walrus-like Slughorn repeated at every dinner. Making the old man comfortable around him, enough to have tea and one on one talks. The greed in the man's eyes when Tom talked about his future and the part Slughorn would have played in helping him achieve his lofty goals. If only the Potion's Master knew exactly how instrumental to his success he would be. It was almost too easy to get the Professor to open up about his knowledge of Horcruxes, his information was hardly anything Tom didn't know already but just the confirmation that the ritual existed outside of the pages of a dusty book was enough to make his body thrum with excitement._

_And now the night is finally here._

Tom opened his eyes again and ran his fingers over the stone the sinks were carved into. His sanctuary, a gift from his noble ancestor only he was able to access. In the Chamber he felt more connected with his lineage, with the magic that ran through his veins, than anywhere else. It was a reminder that even though his Mother had been a weak and foolish creature and had mixed their blood with dirt, he belonged in this world more than any of the purebloods that had tried to boast their superiority to him. 

It seemed only fitting to use the Basilisk to commit the murder he would use to take his first step towards eternal life. Salazar Slytherin would be proud, he would kill a mudblood and make himself immortal, leaving the rest of time to complete his ancestors work. An Avada Kedavra would be far easier with less potential of- _messiness_ \- but Dumbledore, the old bastard, would surely check his wand and he would be sent to Azkaban. Immortality would be useless if he was insane.

He opened his mouth to speak the words that would call the Basilisk when a noise came from the stalls. He stopped and listened and there it was once more, a small sniffle. It was late, much past curfew, no one should have been wandering around. But there it was, some sniffling girl interrupting the most important moment of Tom's life yet. He flexed his jaw, trying to restrain his annoyance before speaking.

"Hello, is someone in here?" He called. The sniffling stopped immediately. "I was making rounds and I heard you in here, is there anything I can do to help? I'm more than happy to escort you to your dorm." His silky voice and cultured accent helped to put people at ease, it had been useful more than once. Slowly the stall door opened and a head peaked out.

The girl was a Ravenclaw judging from her tie. Her pigtailed hair was in disarray and her eyes were swollen and red from crying. She couldn't have been more than a third year. He smiled at the girl and saw her flush, taking a few steps closer he held out his hand.

"Hello, I'm Tom Riddle."

The girls eyes widened and flicked down to his tie for a moment. "You're that Slytherin Prefect. The one Olive Hornby is always giggling about." Her voice was shaky and small but Tom could hear the resentment when she spoke the other girl's name. "I'm Myrtle Warren." _Damn it all, Warren is a pureblood name._ There was a Light family called Warren, and as much as Tom sometimes loathed them all it wasn't in his plan to kill a pureblood. He wasn't sure if this girl was from the same Warrens but he couldn't risk it. No, he needed it to be a Muggleborn this time, that way he could further the admiration of his Slytherins. Remind them once again who he was descended from.

"Well Myrtle, why don't I escort you back to Ravenclaw Tower? If someone sees us walking together, maybe Olive Hornby will hear about it. That might fix her giggling." He winked and the girl blushed even deeper and grabbed his hand. _So easy to make people go along with what you want them to do. I'll escort her back to the Tower and gain an alibi._

They had been walking about two minutes when Tom noticed the girl fiddling with something around her neck. A light from the torches caught it and it gleamed brightly, and he saw the pendant had a peculiar shape. He had always had a bit of a soft spot for shiny trinkets. Especially those belonging to others.

"What an interesting necklace, may I see it?" He asked and the girl stopped walking. When he turned to her she was clutching the necklace tightly and chewing on her lip. _Now that is not what I expected._ "Don't be shy, is it from an admirer perhaps?" The girl shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. It's just… a special necklace. Professor Dumbledore said no one but me could see it." She whispered the last part but he caught it. He would have just given up if not for her mentioning Dumbledore. It was a point of pride to discover the Transfiguration Professor's secrets as the old man seemed so keen on knowing all of Tom's. _Well now Dumbledore, let's see what you're hiding this time._

Knowing his height was imposing to some he leaned down to the Ravenclaw's eye level. "Come now, friends are supposed to keep each other's secrets aren't they?"

The girl's eyes widened and her mouth worked with no sound for a moment before stuttering, "F-friends? You want to be friends with me?"

 _How disgustingly pathetic._ "I don't see why we couldn't be friends. You seem like a sweet girl. And one of the things my friends do is keep each other's secrets. If you tell me about your necklace there, I'll even tell you one of mine." He widened his smile and the girl looked down to her shuffling feet.

"A-alright then, Tom." She let go of the pendant she had been holding and Tom tilted his head. It was a small hourglass, complete with sand, encircled in a gold gyroscope with a circle within another. It had little knobs on each side that looked to control the golden hoops. Now that the girl had let it out of her grasp he could sense the pulsing magic coming from it.

"And why would that need to be a secret? It's quite a pretty necklace."

Myrtle looked around as if someone may be coming before leaning in to whisper, "Dumbledore gave it to me to help me take all of my classes this year. He said it was called a Time-Turner." She lifted it from her chest and held it out. "I just twist these little knobs on the side and then there's a lot whirling and I wind up back in time so I can take two classes at the same time." Her eyes were alight as she spoke and she didn't seem to notice the gleam that had rose in Tom's.

 _A device to turn back time, what a useful little thing. I could be in the Chamber or even out of the castle while simultaneously being in the Slytherin Common Room, surrounded by people. The possibilities… I could never be caught, I'd always be exactly where I was supposed to be at any given time. I have to have it._ He hadn't noticed his hand reaching out until he felt the warm metal. He grasped the necklace and yanked but the girl, daft creature, grabbed his arm and it slipped from his grasp clinking on the stone floor. He quickly leaned down and before he registered the hourglass spinning rapidly his hand closed around it once more.

Immediately the world around him began to spin and Tom had the sensation of the floor falling out beneath him. There was a roaring sound in his ears and he screamed as every inch of his body seemed to be stretching, pulling apart at the seams. And then all at once they snapped back together and everything went black.

*****

The first thing Tom noticed was he was very cold, and very wet. This was slightly alarming as last he had checked it was April and the snow had long melted at Hogwarts. Licking his dry lips to wet them he forced himself into a sitting position… And promptly emptied his stomach onto the ground next to him. He wiped his mouth with his hand and used the snow to clean it as he could. He saw lights and the looming shape of the castle not too far from him. _At least I know I'm still at Hogwarts._ The Time-Turner, as Myrtle had called it, was still clenched tightly in his fist. He glared at it resting on his palm before dropping it into the inner pocket of his robes.

Shakily he stood up and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. His shoes had soaked through and he noticed his hands were going slightly numb. He reached into his pocket for his wand and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the familiar handle. Drawing it he cast a few warming and drying charms. He didn't return it to his cloak as he noticed he wasn't too far from the Forbidden Forest. _One can never be too careful._ Slowly he began to march through the snow towards the castle.

He ran through what he remembered of the moment he had touched the Time-Turner. He hadn't noticed it spinning until it was too late. 'I just twist these little knobs on the side and then there's a lot whirling and I wind up back in time..' That was what Myrtle had said. 'A lot of whirling' was quite the understatement, every inch of him was aching like he had been trampled by an Abraxan. Silently he cursed the idiot girl, and for good measure, himself a bit too. He had let greed get the best of him and acted without thinking. _A device to let you travel through time._ He wondered how far back in time he had gone. Perhaps just a few days, he needed to find someone and ask them the date. He hadn't read much about time travel but he assumed running into himself could not have pleasant consequences.

The crunching of snow caught his attention and he looked around. Just as he was going to chalk it up to paranoia he noticed two sets of footsteps on the ground ahead of him. He didn't see anyone there but just a bit further he saw new ones being made. _A disillusionment charm perhaps. Someone doesn't want to be caught outside the castle._ Someone not wanting to be caught would be less likely to alert anyone to his presence.

"You there, under the cloaking charm." He called out and smirked when the footsteps stopped. He walked up to the space where the two would be standing as they shuffled to turn towards him. Once he got within a few feet he began to speak. "I believe I've had some sort of accident and bumped my head while looking for Potion's ingredients, my thoughts are a little hazy and-," he stopped short when a cloak was pulled back revealing a boy and a girl.

He only had a moment to observe a pair of startled green eyes in the light of a _Lumos_ , before a fist collided with the side of his head, and once again he was enveloped in darkness.

*****

"Harry James Potter! What is wrong with you!?"

Harry could barely make out Hermione 's voice over the ringing in his ears. He was cradling his aching fist and breathing heavily. Distantly, he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder as well. His eyes didn't move from the form on the ground.

The boy had dark hair and pale skin that seemed to stand out even from the backdrop of snow. He was in Slytherin robes and it seemed he was the same age as the boy Harry had met in his second year. Tom Marvolo Riddle, in the flesh. He would have known him anywhere, especially now that he had been observing him in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Hermione was still ranting behind him.

"Honestly he said he had a head injury-"

"'Mione-"

"-and you just go and punch him-"

"Hermione-"

"-I don't know what has gotten into you-"

"Hermione!" His shout made her stop short and he took the chance to point at the wand in Riddle's hand. Hermione's eyes widened and all the breath left her in a _whoosh_.

"But that's… That's _his_ wand." Harry turned to look at it as well. Bone-white, with a large handle, Voldemort's Yew wand lay there harmlessly. The thought of how many times that wand had been used to hurt him, to hurt his loved ones, made his stomach clench. _That was the wand that killed my parents._

With shaking fingers he pried it from the grasp of Riddle's hand and pocketed it. Trying not to think of how disgusting it was to have it on his person he turned towards Hermione. She was staring down at the unconscious wizard. "Is that him?" She asked quietly. Harry noted with a bit of pride that her voice didn't shake.

"I think so. That's exactly what he looked like when he came out of the diary." He swallowed.

"I understand why you punched him now." She breathed, and a surprised and slightly hysterical bark of laughter left Harry.

"Yeah. It was the first thing I thought to do." They were silent for a moment and then Hermione drew her wand. Not a moment later Riddle was levitating in a full body bind.

"Let's go find Dumbledore." She said resolutely and Harry nodded.

"I just hope he's here tonight." He threw the Invisibility Cloak over Riddle and they headed towards the castle. With Hermione silent next to him Harry's thoughts began to run wild. _What the hell is Voldemort doing at Hogwarts?_ There was no way the wards should have allowed him entrance, and if he did manage to take them down, the Order would have been here instantly.

Harry's eyes darted to where he knew the unconscious boy was floating. He wondered why they weren't running and screaming, alerting everyone. _Maybe we're in shock._ But Harry was almost positive it was because the boy in Slytherin robes hadn't looked like Voldemort. He knew that this version of Voldemort was just as dangerous, he had proven that in the Chamber of Secrets. But, after facing down a barefoot, red-eyed, noseless monster, it was hard to be afraid of a boy his own age. Someone who looked so… Human.

"What do we do if he's not there?" Hermione whispered as they approached the gargoyle that led to the Headmasters office.

"Haven't thought that far yet," he told her honestly. "Fizzing Whizbee _."_ He said to the Gargoyle and they both stepped on to the staircase. Harry raised his hand to knock when they reached the top but before his knuckles connected a voice inside bid them to enter. He pushed open the door to the office, he had been there only the night before, the Pensieve was still out of it's cabinet. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped atop it. The blackened and shriveled hand couldn’t move much any longer, but even so, the man’s presence was still powerful and comforting.

"Harry, Ms. Granger." He nodded at each of them. "What can I do for you?"

The Gryffindors glanced at each other. "We ran into someone on our way back from Hagrid's and brought them straight here." Harry pawed at the air a few times before his fingers grazed the Cloak, he pulled it off and Hermione floated Tom Riddle to the floor. Dumbledore stood and walked over to the boy, leaning over him and examining his face. "Tom Riddle. How very interesting. I will admit I never thought I'd see him looking like himself again." He straightened and looked at Harry, his usual twinkle dimmed slightly. "I assume you took his wand?" He asked holding out his good hand.

Harry reached into his pocket and handed the wand to the Headmaster, glad to be rid of it. Dumbledore tucked it away in his voluminous robes. "Now, before we wake him up, why don't you tell me what happened."

Harry fidgeted nervously, either from the presence of his mortal enemy, or from admitting to being out past curfew, he wasn't sure which. "We-, Hermione and I that is, we went to visit Hagrid under the Cloak. We were walking back when we heard a voice and we thought we might be in trouble so we didn't take the Cloak off, but he must have seen our footsteps in the snow. He walked up to us and started saying some bull- er, nonsense, about Potions and hitting his head when I recognized him and I, well, uh-" Harry fumbled.

"He punched him, Sir. Knocked him out cold." Hermione said and he glared at the girl who merely shrugged. Dumbledore's lips were twitching slightly at the sides.

"Well, my boy, I suppose no one can blame you. You always do provoke quite the strong reactions from each other." Harry rubbed at the back of his neck.

"What is he doing here, sir? And why didn't the wards alert anyone? And, why does he look like that?" He saw Dumbledore look down at Riddle again.

"I'm afraid I don't know Harry, I suppose we'll have to ask him ourselves." The Headmaster drew his wand and pointed it at the boy on the floor. " _Ennervate._ "

With a gasp Riddle awoke, instantly he scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall, his hands fumbled in his robes as he scanned the people in front of him. "Give me back my wand." He demanded. His voice made Harry twitch towards his own.

"Now, now Tom. No need to be alarmed." Dumbledore spread his hands out in a gesture of peace. "We don't mean you any harm."

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore and then widened them slightly in recognition. "Age finally catch up with you Professor?" He spat.

"Age caught up with me a long time ago, Tom." Dumbledore returned calmly. "Now, as I said before we don't intend to hurt you, you're safe." At this Tom scoffed.

"Safe? That brute," he pointed at Harry, "hit me like, like some common Muggle trash!" He was glaring at Harry now, unsurprisingly Voldemort's glare seemed much more threatening when his eyes weren't such a light blue.

"I assume you must have startled our Mr. Potter here greatly, though that is no excuse."

"No excuse! He deserves a lot more than a bloody right hook!" Harry protested. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his chin defiantly. "What? He does!"

"What did I ever do to you? I don't even know who the hell you are!" Riddle was shouting now but Harry only blinked. _Doesn't know who I am?_

"Wait, you don't know me?" Harry questioned.

"I've never seen you before in my life." The other wizard repeated and Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully.

"Why don't we all take a seat, and Tom here can tell us what happened before he ran into you and Ms. Granger." The old man waved his hand and another chair appeared beside the two in font of his desk. Harry huffed and sat down in the furthest from the door while Tom sat in the one closest to it. Hermione gnawed her lip for a moment, eyes flicking towards Riddle before taking the seat in between the two. Dumbledore returned to his spot behind the desk and looked at the three of them in turn before settling on Tom and waving his hand towards him.

Riddle brushed off his robes and crossed his legs. "I had just awoken in the snow, freezing, right before I ran into _them._ " He sneered.

"And before that?" Dumbledore prompted.

Here the boy seemed to hesitate. "I was escorting a third year Ravenclaw back to her dorm, I had found her in the girls bathroom on the first floor after curfew while making my rounds." Harry stiffened. _First floor girls room. Third-year Ravenclaw. Myrtle. Voldemort's first Horcrux._

Dumbledore met Harry's eyes before looking at the Slytherin again. "And do you happen to remember the date?" He asked.

"April 20th, 1942." He seemed nonchalant, but Harry saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. Harry knew Dumbledore hadn't looked this old in 1942, Riddle was behaving far too calm. Dumbledore wasn't even Headmaster yet in his time.

"Well Tom, today is December 1st, 1996."

For what was probably the first time in his life Tom Riddle looked like he was speechless. "I never thought…" He eventually managed in a whisper. "She said… But only hours…" His dark eyebrows were knitted together in thought.

"Tom?" Dumbledore questioned quietly and the boy shook his head before looking up at the Headmaster.

"The girl, Myrtle," he explained and Hermione jumped a bit in surprise at the name, "she had this." He pulled a long chain with a familiar pendant hanging off of it from his robe.

"A Time-Turner!" Hermione exclaimed and Riddle looked at her for the first time.

"Yes. That's what she said it was called. She said it was from you actually, Professor." He explained, eyes following the hourglass as it swung back and forth. "She let me look at it, explained what it was. I was interested naturally so I went to touch it but she moved away and the chain snapped. When I picked it up the hourglass had been spinning. It must have brought me here." He looked back up at the Headmaster who smiled knowingly, causing Riddle to scowl.

"I didn't think Time-Turners could be used to go forward or backward more than a few hours, sir." Hermione's eyes brightened with excitement. "Professor Croaker's law states that the furthest anyone can travel is five hours without causing damage to themselves or even time itself. This could have catastrophic consequences! Unless…" She paused for a moment and her eyes widened as she looked at Dumbledore. "Sir, do you think…?"

Dumbledore's twinkle was in full force as he smiled at Hermione. "Quick as ever Ms. Granger, as I've always said you are the brightest witch of your age. Perhaps even mine." Here Hermione blushed scarlet. "And I believe so. However, only time will tell if we are correct in this case."

Harry frowned, not catching on. "What are you two talking about?"

Hermione turned to him, practically bouncing. "If- er- Riddle retains all of his memories of his life before coming here it's possible that he may have existed in an alternate timeline and the Time-Turner ripped through the fabric and spat him out here in ours. Of course, that all depends on us not finding any temporal disturbances in our present timeline, which believe me we would notice. It would be the first time this has happened in history that we’re aware of. " She took a deep breath before finishing. "It would be a new law of time, an outcome Croaker couldn't have even predicted. I need to go to the library." She rose out of her chair before Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her down again. She huffed and crossed her arms. He noticed Riddle was looking at her as if she had grown another head.

"Remind you of someone Tom?" Dumbledore asked, amused. The Slytherin sniffed.

"I am not sure I know what you're talking about, Professor." He replied haughtily.

"Sir, I know this is, er, exciting? and all but it doesn't explain what we're going to do with him." Harry interjected.

Riddle bristled at that, "What you're going to do with me?"

“Well Harry, I believe I have thought of a solution to that.” The Headmaster smiled and Harry was suddenly nervous. He knew that smile, it meant Dumbledore had an idea, and historically his mentor’s ideas didn’t go well for him. “I believe Mr. Riddle it is in your best interest that you remain here at Hogwarts. Until we determine exactly what the consequences of you arriving in our time consist of I think it wise we do not inform the Ministry. They tend to, ah, complicate things.”

Harry snorted at that. _Complicate things. Make a bloody mess of everything is more like it._ Riddle however only hesitated for a few seconds before nodding once, though it looked like it caused him actual physical pain to agree with anything Dumbledore said.

“Right then! Harry, Ms. Granger, why don’t you return to Gryffindor Tower and Tom and I will finish discussing the details of his time with us.” Harry and Hermione nodded before standing and leaving the office, Riddle didn’t so much as glance at them leaving.

Harry couldn’t wait to get to bed, he was exhausted and it wouldn’t hurt to put as much distance as possible between him and young Voldemort.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Inter Spem et Metum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are musing about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm fucking up the canon timeline all over the place. Forget what you know, enter my world where a correct order of events is nonexistent!
> 
> This is mostly a set-up chapter for the upcoming happenings, which is my excuse for the comparatively short length. But! we get a little glimpse into the differences between the Tom we know and myyy (still holy christ just fucked up -but different) Tom.
> 
> Enjoy, darlings.

Harry had a plan. It was not the best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. He was going to convince himself that last night had not happened at all. He was going to chalk it all up to being a very strange dream. He was going to get up from his bed, head down to the  
Great Hall, have some breakfast, chat with Hermione and Ron and have a nice normal Saturday.

Nodding his head once, Harry flung back the curtains to his bed and began to get ready. It seemed as if his dorm-mates had already left and he even hummed to himself while pulling on his clothes. He opened the door to the boy’s dormitories, went down the stairs and realized he had overlooked something major in his strategy for the day.

Hermione wasn’t aware of the plan.

“Finally!” She exclaimed as soon as his feet hit the bottom stair, and rushed up to him. She looked like she had hardly slept at all. “Come on, we have to go to the library.” The witch then linked her arm with his and began pulling him.

“Hermione, please, I haven’t even had breakfast.” He knew he was whining but he was going to retain at least one part of his day damn it. Hermione stopped and stared at him for a few moments in which Harry gave his best impression of a hopeful puppy, before rolling her eyes and letting go of his arm, turning towards the direction of the Great Hall. “You know, you can’t just pretend like nothing happened last night.” She said quietly, like she wasn’t stabbing all of his dreams right in their necks. “This is very serious Harry, people could get hurt. Tom Riddle was not exactly the kind of person you wanted walking amongst other people, even before the ‘ _you-know-what’s’._ ”

Sighing, he nodded his head. She was right after all. There was no way they were going to be able to ignore the fact that there were now two Voldemort’s in the world. He had just hoped he’d get one day of self-delusion. He wondered what Tom Riddle was doing at that moment. What had Dumbledore told him? Did he know what he had become in this timeline, what the history between Harry and Voldemort was like?

More than anything though, he wanted to know what the boy’s intentions would be. There was a chance he would want to help his counterpart here. He knew that Voldemort had not vanished just because Tom Riddle had arrived, his scar had ached him throughout the night. He shuddered to think what the insane Voldemort of his timeline and the charming charismatic Tom Riddle of this other time could accomplish when put together. And he didn’t know if the Dark Lord’s obsession with self-preservation would include wanting to keep his younger self alive if he ever found out about Riddle’s existence. Or if the young Riddle would be thrilled at the prospect of helping his counterpart achieve his quest for domination.

There was always the slim chance though, that this time-travelling Tom Riddle would decide to help their side. It would be nearly invaluable to have someone with insight into Voldemort’s twisted mind, in a way that didn’t put everyone around them at risk the way Harry’s scar-connection did. Perhaps, with a little time and effort, and a very heavy amount of bribing and threatening, they could gain something from this. _I wasn’t almost sorted into Slytherin for no reason, perhaps I could use some cunning, and gain us an ally._

It would be dangerous trying to play such a game with someone who had the art of manipulation and deception down to a tee before the age of eleven. And he didn’t exactly know how to act around this version of Voldemort. The one who had chosen not to kill Myrtle Warren and instead ended up here. It could have been a mistake, sparing the girl, or it could mean he was dealing with a different person altogether. He would need to talk to Dumbledore. He didn’t even know what the man’s plans for Riddle were, if he would keep him locked away or find a way to explain his appearance in the castle.

“Harry, mate, you alright there?” Ron’s voice got his attention and, looking around; he realized he was in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table.

“Yeah, Ron, I’m fine. I'm just thinking.” He replied with a smile, and started piling breakfast foods on to his plate.

“Well don’t hurt yourself you looked like you were ‘gonna pull a muscle.” Ron grinned and even Hermione laughed when Harry threw a piece of toast at him.

“Sod off.” Harry replied fondly. He was glad it was the weekend and he wouldn’t be expected to participate in classes. He had some things to sort out, and a Headmaster to talk to.

*****

Tom once read that Ivy is an invasive species. How ironic it should share the color of Harry Potter’s eyes. _Harry Potter._ The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. Youngest Seeker in a century. Defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort. The only person known to have survived the Killing Curse. To say Tom was intrigued with the boy was putting it just-this-side of too lightly.

Dumbledore and he had spent several hours discussing the timeline in which he had come from and the timeline he was presently in. His tongue was sore from how often he had to quite literally bite it to keep himself remaining civil and polite after so long in the old man’s presence. His effort had been worth it, though. The information provided in the last hours had been nothing short of _fascinating._

He always had dreamed of becoming renowned for his skill, to become someone great. Someone people discussed in hushed voices, with a tone of awe. What he had become in this timeline was slightly different than what he had imagined accomplishing. The Dark Lord Voldemort was spoken of in hushed voices but there was no awe or reverence. There was only fear. That is where Tom believed he and his counterpart differed vastly. Fear was a great motivator and a useful tool and he knew that all too well. The filthy mongrels at the hellhole he resided in during the summer never touched him again after giving them a taste of what it was like to be helpless, terrified at the mercy of someone you have no hope of overpowering. But you could not count on fear for long, for fear breeds dissonance and rebellion.

Using fear to rule will of course work initially, it is a powerful emotion. It is a base emotion and one that is instinctual. Fear will force people into submission and force them to commit acts they never thought they would in order to preserve their lives. But, after too long being afraid a human will realize the bleakness of their sutuation. They are living in a constant state of panic and undoubtedly receiving punishment from the one threatening their safety. Eventually, any man will realize he’d rather be dead then live the way he is living and that’s when he becomes dangerous. It is how great revolutions have started. A man with nothing left to lose, but everything to gain.

That is why he had taken such a different approach to his followers than the Voldemort of this time had. He had courted them rather than cowed them, rewarded them with his attention and approval instead of simply not punishing them. When they made mistakes, they were not cursed but ignored, shunned by all their companions, and then after they begged to be back in his good graces he would ask them why they deserved to be in his presence and what they did wrong and oh it was so _delectable_ watching them tear themselves apart at the seams without him raising a finger. They would sob and berate themselves endlessly and the _power_ that he felt knowing someone would spear themselves so pitifully just because he didn’t look at them for a few days, it made him shudder.

His attention had always been sought after. He was exceedingly attractive, and even that was being modest. He was endlessly charming and he honed that skill until it was flawless. But more than anything, people were attracted to his power. It rolled off him in waves and seeped into other’s flesh. Abraxas Malfoy had once said, somewhat crassly, it felt like ‘the first sip of an aged cognac and the best fuck you’ve ever had’ when he unleashed his magic. He had seen the effect it had on those around him, drawing them to him like flies to honey. And his closest followers had access to his teaching and power and would rise with him to the top and they knew all they had to do, was anything he asked.

This was something the Voldemort of this time had failed to ascertain. This Voldemort did not seem to have the same line of thinking as he did, no matter their similarities. He was simply not as rational as Tom, and nowhere near as manipulative. He had been blinded by his ambition rather than strengthened by it. The same way he himself was blinded by greed when it reared its ugly head. They both had their weaknesses it seemed.

His counterpart had even attacked and attempted to murder an infant, all based on only half of a prophecy that may have been rubbish to begin with. And, in killing the Potter’s and being defeated by their son, he had not only created two heartbreaking martyrs, but a hero as well. _What a fool._

Dumbledore blamed Voldemort’s actions on the effects of how many Horcruxes he had made. Splitting his soul into miniscule pieces and reducing his sanity with it. Tom refused to give him such a scapegoat. The man had simply acted irrationally, had let anger and hate rule him instead of fueling him. Tom had said as much to the now Headmaster.

He knew he would never receive the man’s trust, apparently, Dumbledore was suspicious of him no matter what timeline he was in. But, he believed the man was giving him the distinction he deserved from the Dark Lord he knew. He was not a ‘good’ person, nor would he ever be one of the so called Light that the old coot loved to preach about. He was not, however, going to become what Voldemort had in this reality he found himself in.

Perhaps, though, he could take advantage of the state his counterpart had put the current Wizarding World in. The Ministry was in disarray and the people it guided were feeling lost and fearful. If he was going to be stuck here which he was sure he would be, then maybe he could find a silver lining. He could still find a way to place himself in a position of power. To change the way the Wizarding World was run to how he had always wanted it to be. But for that, he needed influence.

And who better to give him such influence, than Harry Potter?

*****

“You see, sir, I believe I have an idea.” Harry rubbed the sleeve of his robes in between his fingers. He had been thinking of how to approach Dumbledore all day. He had even gone flying to try to get his thoughts together, but had found no easy way to breach the topic. He figured he might as well dive right in. “Obviously, it isn’t convenient to get another Tom Riddle dumped into our laps at a time like this.” He lifted his head and found the Headmaster staring at him, ever present twinkle out in force.

“That may be a small understatement my boy.” The older wizard smiled at him and Harry’s lips twitched a bit as well despite his nervousness.

“But I was thinking, maybe it doesn’t have to be all bad. Maybe, he can help us. I’m not saying we should trust him or anything, but possibly, with a little convincing he could give us an advantage. A way to see Voldemort from a way we couldn’t before. I think if anyone would know how to defeat him, it would be himself.” The old Professor nodded thoughtfully.

“I talked with the young Mr. Riddle for several hours last night.” Dumbledore said seeming to be mulling things over. “And I do not think he is altogether the same person as Voldemort is here in our time. I believe there is a chance he could be open to helping us if given the right motivation, and perhaps a little guidance. It seems though that the boy harbors as much resentment for me as his counterpart does unfortunately.” The old man sighed. Harry however, was undeterred. He knew there was no way, no matter what timeline they were in that Tom Riddle would listen to Albus Dumbledore. There was someone though, that Tom Riddle had always been interested in.

“I think, Professor, that’s where I come in.”


End file.
